Tantrums. In my opinion, a risky thing to have especially around love ones.  On the other hand, we all have them when we are going through a bad day.  As thing refuses to go our way, this big lump of irritation in our chests builds up and most likely, it will either cause a fit or we end up punching something or someone.  In the most extreme case I’ve seen, throwing something and hurting someone you love or care about.

While many considers me to be an extremely tolerant person, I am not as tolerant as people might think mostly because they have never seen me get angry which I seemed to feel a lot lately.  Maybe it’s the fact that after almost two weeks since final exam and my grade has not yet come out.  It makes me nervous that there’s chance I might not pass the class and graduate.  Also, since graduation night, I don’t think I even had a moment to myself except at night.  I haven’t work on my novel since last week.  I don’t even know what it’s about anymore.

It feels strange that while I sat at home everyday doing my work, a part of me has this strange urge of wanting mom to come home while another part was begging for peace for the mom-less day.  The moment she steps through the door, that part of me would immediately sense dread.  It’s not that I don’t love her, it’s just the second she comes home, she calls my name while I am in the middle of doing something.  Answering yeah already made me lose my train of thought but then she would tell me to do some other thing.  Then that annoyance and irritability in my chest just start escalating like a step-ladder.

Do this, do that, bring the garbage can back in, call the college.  After doing those things, I begin to wonder what I was about to do before she told me to do those thing.  Yesterday, I lost my temper.  I got to the point where I just swing my arm at something, anything.

My mother stepped through the door and immediately, she did not care what I was doing, she said, “Bring the trash can back in.” I waved my hand at her, later, it meant.  I was in the middle of working on the translation project.  “Quickly, now.” She demanded.

I looked at her, what’s your hurry? It’s not like I not going to take out the garbage like a few hours later.  “Quick.” She said again. I sighed and slipped into my outdoor shoes and stepped outside.

About 30 minutes later, after I brought my computer back upstairs to my room along with my tablet because it was running low on battery.  She started shrieking, “You didn’t do this translation.”

I lost my train of thought on what I was about to do and trudged over to her room, “What are you talking about?”

She pointed at the screen, “This is supposed to be Chinese!” She raised her voice.

“I couldn’t make the program appear that way.” I said irritatingly.

“What am I supposed to do?” She asked.

“You’re the reviewer.  You’re the one to make sure my Chinese translation matches the English.” I answered. It’s not like it’s her first time doing this, we been doing the same thing since February. “Read the email.” I instructed.  There was a few seconds of silence as I made my way back into my room.

“Where is it?” My impatient mother shrieked again and that was when I lost it.  We exchanged a dozen rounds of shouting like soldiers exchanging fire on a battlefield.  She did most of the shouting since it’s always been her favorite thing to do while I did what I did best, held it in and surrendered my pride and cowardly guts.  I don’t know why I do that, why I can’t just stand up to my mother until she admits I was right and she was wrong.

That fight alone has resulted a sore throat, coarse voice, and an annoyance that may never dissipate.  I guess now what I need is to watch a bunch of comedy and laugh it off.  Oh, yes, the lesson learned, never throw a tantrum or pick an argument with someone who’s more aggressive and hot temper than you because you’ll end up losing.